


auf anderen wegen

by doubtthestars



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Lukas centric, just a drabble for after the friendly, very gen not really shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jogi's faith in Poldi is like a father's but Bastian's faith in him is everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	auf anderen wegen

Lukas takes just a moment for himself out on the sea of green, staring down at the white line demarcating the box. He takes a moment to catch his breath, to shake away the stoppage in his ears, in his throat from the moment he heard the crowd chant his name. It had been ten years. 

It was not Munich. It was not Cologne, but it was Germany and Lukas knew what Germany meant and what he meant to Germany. 

Basti had been questioned. Jogi had been questioned. Miro had even been questioned and it hurt, deep in the spaces that should be all viscera and blood. He didn't think he would still be fighting for a spot, fighting for time to play after this many years but the world didn't work according to wishes (except for one golden star, one golden night.)

He tries two more times to get a cross, to get a shot, to win. Lukas' mind is still staring down at that white patch of grass. There is no time to regret but he laughs at himself softly. _Schade, schade, Poldi._

(The truth is Jogi had few words of wisdom he hadn't heard before but a call-up is a call-up.)

In another life, Mesut could be captain, because the colors of their flag look at home on his arm, instead it is Basti's burden until he takes after Philipp and retires. Lukas understands Mesut better than he thinks.

(They try to keep a smile on and London will always tell them they are German. Warriors cannot hesitate, cannot be selfless. Neither of them will be captain but for a moment and a funny flip of his heart tells him the team understands even if the media doesn't)

Afterwards, he is not rooming with Bastian but ends up in his room anyway. They are better than fit, but Lukas keeps thinking Jogi will not let them play together for a while yet. He understands, of course he understands giving the younger players a chance because he was once there himself. 

"Cristoph is wearing your old number." Basti's eyes tell him his thoughts are on the same path as his.

"When did we get so old, Arne must feel ancient." Lukas jokes. It is a safe thought and a safe place. The hours are shortening. He blinks and it is already dark, after dinner, one more day lost to time and doubt. At least he scored a goal, his 48th wearing the jersey but it doesn't pick the gloom out of his thoughts.

A cool hand knocks into his shoulder. Serious green eyes meeting his blue. 

"We're not done yet, Lukas. You proved that out there, for both of us." The last of their generation sitting in a room, thinking about the future. 2004 seemed too far into the past and 2018 was fast approaching.

Bastian's smile was the same as it was in the Confed Cup. It would always be the same for Lukas, no matter how many years passed. 

He smiled back.

"Well, someone had to, all of our captains were on the bench." He teased. A tie wasn't that bad. No one got injured seriously and they still had the qualifier ahead of them. Basti would be in midfield wearing the armband and Lukas would keep trying to score goals. It was an ingrained habit turned new. 

"Keep that up, I'll show you what I can do with my new command." Bastian is too lighthearted with his threats. His eyes are mirthful and Lukas knows he wouldn't have anybody else in the world with him in this particular moment.

"Make me run extra laps? Ooh, I'm scared." He wiggled his socked feet to emphasize his mocking. 

"No, I'll kick your ass and not get yelled at except for Jogi, who will yell as he always does." Lukas scoffs but Basti is already pushing him and wrapping an arm around his neck, more of a hug than a wrestle. Lukas shakes his head.

"Get off me, Basti. Let's go use our powers for good and beat the youths at some darts." Basti kisses his cheek lightning quick and gets up on the balls of his feet.

"Now I know you're full of it. You suck at darts." Lukas shoves him shoulder. 

"Yeah, well, I have you to back me up right." It isn't a question but Bastian replies anyway.

"Yes, always." They walk out of the room with arms around shoulders, planning on who to challenge in a darts competition. Nothing has changed as they burst into laughter when Jerome sees them in the lobby. Germany had raised them until they held the World Cup high. This was only another beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> This is me trying to process all my feelings about everything concerning poldi and the jersey numbers and the r-word and mesut with the captain band(!)


End file.
